


Chapter 61 2.0

by carryon_withoutme



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gay, How Do I Tag, Kissing, M/M, Post-Book 2: Wayward Son, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26618632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carryon_withoutme/pseuds/carryon_withoutme
Summary: Simon, Baz, Penny, and Shepard got back from America and are staying at Baz's family mansion. But Simon and Baz still have a lot to work out, and there's a lot of unsaid feelings between them. Pretty much chapter 61 reimagined after Wayward Son.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Kudos: 34





	Chapter 61 2.0

**Author's Note:**

> So I like to imagine that in Any Way the Wind Blows Simon and Baz are gonna have this angsty discussion then make up, so I wanted to write it as if it was a similar situation as chapter 61 (which was amazinggg), so you can probably expect what's gonna happen.

Simon  
“Baz!” I call out, wandering around the woods surrounding the Pitch mansion. I run a hand through my hair and sigh. I messed up big time. Baz and I were sitting together on his couch, watching a movie, and when he leaned over to kiss me… I panicked. I pulled away. Because I’m weak; I’m scared. I don’t want to be heartbroken, even though I know that it’s inevitable. So I pulled away. Baz, he just stood up and walked out of the room. I sat there on the couch for a few more minutes before trying to find him because my body couldn’t seem to move. Eventually I mustered up enough will to go to the place where Baz likely would be: the forest.  
I’m walking through the forest now, and the memories are flooding back. I’m taken back to two years ago, when the trees were aflame and Baz was standing in the midst of it all, ready to burn down with it. Baz. I need to find Baz. I call out his name again, stopping short when I him leaning against a tree. His head is down, hair is falling in front of his face, which isn’t as pale as usual -- he must’ve just hunted. His wand is sticking out of the waistband of his jeans (I love those jeans), and the top button of his shirt is undone. I pull off my cross and stuff it in my back pocket, walking towards him. “Hey.”  
“Hi,” Baz returns, still not looking up. We both stand there in silence, not knowing what to say to each other, until Baz suddenly mumbles, “Is it something I did?”  
“What?” I say.  
Baz’s head jerks up and his pale eyes lock with mine. “What the hell did I do to make you not want to kiss me?” His face is flooded with anger. So much that it startles me and I step back. “Ever since we graduated Watford, you’ve started growing more and more distant. Intimate moments with you have become rare occasions, and I feel like I never know if you’re going to pull back at any moment!” He pauses. “So what the hell is it? Do you want to break up with me or something?”  
I fall silent. My breath catches and I can’t speak. I don’t know how to respond. Breaking up with Baz would be the worst thing that could happen to me, but I know that staying with him would only make him suffer. I watch as Baz’s face transforms from anger to utter shock. “Aleister Crowley,” he whispers. He brushes the hair out of his eyes and turns to walk away. I am shocked back to my senses and I reach out to grab his arm.  
“Baz, wait!” He whips around, fangs bared.  
“What, Snow? Wait for what? I just found out that my boyfriend wants to bloody break up with me, so what more do you want me to wait for?!” He yanks his arm away.  
When I finally find my voice, it’s soft. “I just didn’t want to be heartbroken.”  
“You didn’t want to be heartbroken? Are you bloody serious?”  
“I always knew that you were going to break up with me eventually, and that pretending that things were the same would only make it more painful.”  
Baz’s expression changes into confusion, (Better than anger or shock, I suppose,) but his voice raises “Why would I break up with you?”  
“Why wouldn’t you? Crowley, Baz, you are strong, powerful, magickal, bloody gorgeous, smart - you even manage to be a vampire and still handle it with maturity and grace! I’m not even half of those things!” I feel my eyes start to well up with tears. “I’m normal for God’s sake! Even when I was a mage, I was terrible at magick! And now, after we’ve graduated, I’ve just been useless! I’m a mess! I’m always afraid that I’ll mess something up if I haven’t already, and I’m just a deadweight. You and Penny are always using your magic to protect me, while I just fly overhead and make things harder for everyone. I’ve become a useless nobody. I’m a loser, Baz!”  
I see the sadness and hurt in Baz’s eyes. “Simon, you know that's not true. You defeated the Humdrum!”  
“I was the Humdrum!”  
“You still killed him.”  
“Yeah, but I also lost all my magic and killed the Mage - who was my own father - in the process!” Baz starts to speak, but I cut him off. “I’m the son of the person who caused the feud between the magickal families! You were right: I’m the worst Chosen One that’s ever been chosen. You’ve been right this whole time. I’m just a failure. And no one wants to date a failure.” I feel tears start to trickle down my cheeks.  
Baz cups my face in his hands, but his face still has the familiar stone cold expression on it. “Seriously, Snow? Are you that thick? First of all, you saved the magickal world by sacrificing your powers. Second, you’re not a deadweight or a loser. Simon, you’re the reason we survived in America! Without you, we definitely wouldn’t have rescued Agatha! I mean, without me, you and Penny would have gone wild, but we never would have succeeded without you.” I smile a little bit, but I know that Baz is only saying this out of pity. I open my mouth to speak, but he beats me to it. “Third of all, I’ve been in love with you practically since we met. Every single day at Watford I was tearing myself apart trying to push back my feelings. And when we finally got together, it was the happiest I’ve ever been. Why would I want to throw that all away?”  
I shake my head. “You fell in love with who I was.”  
“No, Snow, I fell in love with who you are. I fell in love with the idiotic, caring, handsome, courageous, impulsive, terrible at magic, Simon Snow. The Simon who eats way too many biscuits and thinks that my fangs are “wicked”. The Simon who is stupid enough to not wear his cross necklace even when I tell him. The Simon who never stops protecting me - even though I can take care of myself - because he just wants me to be safe.” He drops his hands from my cheeks and I catch them on impulse. He looks at me. “That’s still you, Simon.”  
I release his hands. “No it’s not.”  
Frustration seeps onto Baz’s facade. “Christ, Simon, yes it is! How many times do I have to tell you this before you finally listen? I choose you! I. Choose. You. No one else, ever. You may not have been the world’s Chosen One, but you are mine.” He targets his intense eyes on my own. “You are my Chosen One, Simon Snow.”

Baz  
Simon is crying pretty hard now. It hurts me to see him so broken down like this. He has no idea how much I love him, and the only thing that I want is for him to realize that. I just want to take Snow into my arms and hold him until he stops sobbing, but I still don’t know if he’ll let me. His head is in his hands, and he’s shaking it, moving his golden curls side to side. I don’t know what I can do to make him believe me. I can’t think of something to do. But then again, Simon always tells me to not think, so that’s what I do.  
I reach up and pull his hands away from his face -- his cheeks are wet; his eyes red. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, I push my face into his.  
It’s a soft kiss, and I hesitate before going any farther, making sure that he doesn’t pull away. I feel his body move, and for a split second, I worry that he’s going to break away, but instead he melts into me, his own tears wetting my cheeks. I put one hand around his waist, the other on his neck, trying to sturdy him. We stand there for several minutes, taking breaths every now and then, Simon wrapped in my arms. I’d hold him for all eternity if I could. I love the way his soft, tawny skin feels against mine; the way his curls touch my forehead; the warm burst of air that I get when he breathes against my neck. Crowley, I love him so much, and I just need him to know that. Eventually - finally - I get somewhat of a response from Simon. He straightens up and wipes his cheeks, but doesn’t pull out of my embrace. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers.  
I tip his chin up and look him in the eye. “You never have to be sorry.”  
Simon wraps his tail around my leg and pulls me closer. He knows how much I love it when he does that, and I immediately go bright red.  
He smirks. “You’re blushing.”  
“It’s the blood.”  
I see a glint in Simon’s eyes. One that I haven’t seen since the renaissance faire back in America. I hope this means that he finally trusts me -- believes me, but as for right now, I’m just enjoying the moment while it lasts. He gets right up in my face so that our noses are touching, and says again, “You’re blushing.”  
My cheeks go even redder and before I can stop myself, I get hard. Simon notices and grins, placing his hands on my hips. “Is that the blood?” he asks, a mischievous smile on his face. I open my mouth to speak, but Simon cuts me off, pressing me against a tree trunk and shoving his mouth onto mine. I smile before opening my mouth and returning the gesture. This is the Simon Snow I’m used to. Always fighting, always pushing, always jumping at the chance to make me flustered. I bring both my hands up and tangle my fingers in his hair. He runs his tongue along my teeth and I lick the roof of his mouth. I sigh with relief as he squeezes my hips, his wings suddenly springing out of his back (This happens whenever he gets… excited. I, personally, love it). He moves his mouth to my neck, leaving kisses from my jawline to shoulder. His fingers creep underneath my shirt, and I shudder at his touch. I slide one of my hands up his own shirt, and he leans further into me. Simon’s undoing my shirt buttons now, still sucking on my neck, and I throw my head back, a sound escaping me that makes Simon freeze. At first I wonder why, then I realize it - or rather, feel it. A shaky breath passes over his lips, the same lips that I meet that moment. Next, I’m pulling off his shirt as he undoes the last of my buttons. We look at each other’s bare chests hungrily, then I lean down and start leaving kisses at each individual mole on his torso. His tail finds my leg again and squeezes. I drag my mouth back up to his jaw and he bucks his hips out of instinct. Before I know it, we’re grinding our hips together, barely aware of the moans escaping our mouths. Our pants are still on, and I’m so in love that I can’t think clearly and forget the fact that we are still in a wide-open clearing in the woods. So I start fiddling with his belt buckle. I pause and meet Simon’s eyes, looking for a go-ahead. He runs his hands up and down my chest, occasionally slipping into my waistband. He moans into my mouth and manages a “yes.” It gives me chills. I pull his belt off, but just as I drop it to the ground, I hear the snap of a twig. Simon jumps and twists himself off of me. We both come face-to-face with Shepard. He’s frozen in place, his brown face bright red.  
“Uh…” he stammers. His eyes flit down to Simon’s belt on the ground, then back up to our bare chests and the marks on our necks. He coughs. “Penny, uh… she found something. Something that could save Watford.”  
I turn to meet Simon’s eyes. He looks concerned. I turn back to Shepard. “We’ll be right there.”

**Author's Note:**

> I just started this account and have a few pre-made fics, but I'll take suggestions for ones to write.  
> Fandoms I'll write for: Marvel, Percy Jackson, Carry On, etc.


End file.
